Kings and Queens
by coffee-not-decaf
Summary: Hogwarts has never been an ordinary place, but the twists and turns of this year shocked even the most brilliant of young wizards. Between the infamous murderer Azazel's escape from Azkaban, Dark Wizards invading the school, a deadly Quidditch rivalry, and an unlikely bond forming between Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, no one really expected to get out of the year alive.
1. Into the Night

**Okay, so I started a Supernatural/Harry Potter crossover. Sue me. **

**There are multiple pairings in this story but I'll only list the endgame ones for your convenience: Castiel/Dean, Sam/Jess, Anna/Gabriel, and Charlie/Jo. There are many more, and the flirting between the characters never ends, but these are the pairings that get happily ever after. Sort of. If that's even possible. (Which it's kind of not.)**

**The story will be pretty long, and I'm not sure at what points I can update. Hopefully often. Hope you enjoy!**

The scarlet steam engine, bathed in color, stood out glaringly against the black and grey of the platform it sat upon. It was a beacon, a light, in the center of all, calling every bit of attention to itself as children and their parents bustled around it, climbing aboard, packing in luggage, and waving their goodbyes tearfully. Well, tearful in the case of the parents. The children's faces were only those of excitement, for they were headed back for another year at their school – Hogwarts, known as the best magical academy in all of Britain.

Castiel surveyed his surroundings with great interest. It was always a joy to see those around him at their happiest, and the journey north to school was always a cause for celebration in the minds of wizarding children. As his eyes roamed around his peers, he zeroed the face he had been searching for. Sighing at the sight of the sharp, angular features, dark blonde hair, and the ever-present mischievous smile, Castiel made his way toward a familiar face.

"Castiel!" Gabriel greeted him with a chuff on the shoulder. Castiel rolled his eyes. His older brother was far too chipper, even if today was easily one of the best days of the year. "I was just looking for you. You got my bags in the compartment, right?"

"Of course," Castiel refrained from sighing once more. Upon arriving at the station, Gabriel had given him the wonderful duty of the bags, dumping them unceremoniously in his younger brother's arms before disappearing into the crowd, giving Castiel no time to argue with him. "I'm going to go on the train now. Are you looking for Anna?"

"Who else?" Gabriel asked. The aforementioned Anna was Anna Milton, a gorgeous redhead in the sixth year. A year younger than Gabriel and exactly Castiel's age, she and Gabriel had been dating for a year now. They were both Slytherin students that felt out of place amongst their, shall we say, slimier housemates, which was what originally drew them to one another. Gabriel had immediately asked her for a date, but Anna turned him down for years – Until she finally relented. Castiel still wondered why, thinking that she must have lost her sanity after prolonged exposure to his slightly insane elder brother.

"I'll ask Balthazar when I see him," Castiel said. "He probably knows where she is."

"Alright, see you!" Gabriel disappeared before Castiel had the chance to blink. Castiel looked at the spot where he vanished for a moment before hurrying forward and stepping onto the train. He was greeted by a variety of classmates, most of them pointing out the badge pinned to his navy robes identifying himself as Quidditch Captain.

Castiel had been playing Seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch Team ever since third year; Quidditch was a passion of his, one of the only things about his life that was good, clean, and pure. Just the thought of flying made him long to be in the air once more. He hadn't had much of a chance to practice over the summer, which needed to be remedied immediately, especially with Professor Harvelle choosing him for the captain position.

Finding an empty compartment was relatively simple – He and Gabriel didn't show up at the last possible second, unlike many of their classmates. He found one quite quickly in the middle of the train, absolutely vacant. Throwing himself a seat next to the window, he settled into the worn train seat, pulling _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 6) _out of it, and settled down to read.

"Castiel!"

Castiel blinked, looking up from a fascinating section of his book on human transfiguration to be greeted by the Londoner accent and smirking face of Balthazar Milton. Anna's twin brother and Castiel's best friend and fellow member of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, Balthazar was as annoying as he was flirtatious. Which was quite a lot. Castiel often wondered how they had stayed friends all these years. He figured it was because no one else was willing to put up with either of them.

"Hi, Balthazar," He smiled a bit wearily up at his friend, who dropped into the seat across from him. "Good to see you again."

"It's been two months, Cassie," Balthazar shook his head in mock shame while Castiel rolled his eyes at the nickname. "Two whole months, and not a single letter from you addressed to me. Gabriel wrote to Anna weekly, you fool! I'm beginning to think there's a plot afoot. Perhaps you have found a replacement for me?"

"No one could ever replace you, Balth," Castiel chuckled slightly at the over dramatization that he was so used to. "I was just busy this summer."

And he had been. Gabriel's seventeenth birthday had fallen on the previous January, meaning that this was the first summer the pair of them could legally move out of their uncle, Raphael's, house. There were endless legalities to deal with, along with earning the money to rent a flat. Castiel had spent all summer working at Flourish and Blotts as a shop assistant. He was surprised that Gabriel had found the time to write Anna at all, let alone as often as he did.

"Well, I'd expect," Balthazar raised an eyebrow and gestured toward the badge on Castiel's chest. "Been too busy beating me for the captain spot?"

Castiel frowned, brow furrowed. He hoped Balthazar wasn't jealous; the two of them had been playing together for years, Castiel as Seeker and Balthazar as Chaser. He didn't want this new hierarchy to put a rift in their friendship. "I'm sorry, Balthazar, I –"

Balthazar held up a hand to stop him. "I'm just teasing, mate. Good on you."

Castiel felt a rush of relief. "Thanks. And I'm sure Harvelle considered you for the position."

Balthazar shrugged lazily. "Hey, she probably based it off of behavior and not talent on the field. You've only gotten four detentions in six years, after all. A fact that needs to be remedied."

"How about not?" Castiel always tried to avoid getting involved in Balthazar's schemes. They never ended well for either of them.

"It's our second to last year, Cassie!" Balthazar said in a petulant tone. "You've got to live a little before we leave to become boring adults."

"I'll leave that to you," Castiel chuckled slightly, fingering the edge of his book and wishing he could delve back into it. Unfortunately, Balthazar would never allow him to do that. Suddenly, a quick jolt of his seat told him that the train was leaving the station. He glanced out the window at the parents waving goodbye at their children, even though he knew there was no one there for him. Hiding a sigh, he turned back to continue a conversation with Balthazar. However, there was a knock on the compartment door that distracted him.

Turning, he saw a face in the window staring nervously back at him. Castiel gestured for the boy – for he was obviously male – to come inside. As the door shuffled shut behind him, Castiel recognized him as Sam Winchester.

Sam was a fourth year Ravenclaw that Castiel was vaguely acquainted with. Extremely smart, it was already well-known throughout the school that Sam was going to go far in life, even though he was only fourteen years old. Castiel had never spoken to him at length before, only with nods and smiles in the corridors. They had barely spoken in the three years since Sam had arrived at Hogwarts, which made Castiel wonder why the younger boy had sought him out this morning.

"Erm, hi," Sam said, sinking into the seat next to Castiel's a bit awkwardly. "Uh…I was wondering which of you was Quidditch captain this year. I mean, I knew it was one of you. You two are the best players and I just...erm…"

Castiel decided to save Sam from the uncomfortable situation of trying to explain himself. The boy was already blushing, his cheeks tinged pink. "I'm the captain," Castiel gestured to the badge on his chest. "What can I do for you, Sam?" He tried his best to sound pleasant.

"I was just, erm, going to try out for the team this year," Sam said, determinedly not meeting Castiel's eyes. "So I wanted to know who the captain was so I could ask when tryouts were."

Castiel gave the younger boy what he hoped was a grin, although many people told Castiel that he just looked constipated when he tried to smile. "Well, I haven't decided the dates yet. Probably on Saturday, if the pitch is free. What position do you want to try out for?"

"Keeper," Sam returned Castiel's smile. "Fletcher graduated last year, right?"

"Yes," Castiel said, remembering Leon Fletcher, their last keeper and captain. He had been a bit harsh on Castiel and Balthazar, along with the rest of their team. Castiel had sworn to himself when getting the badge that he wouldn't be the kind of captain Fletcher had been. "He did."

"You think you're better than Fletcher?" Balthazar spoke up. He had been uncharacteristically quiet during Castiel and Sam's exchange, but apparently his muteness didn't last for long. He smirked at the young Winchester, who colored even more.

"No, of course not!" Sam said indignantly, looking at Balthazar with a bit of resentment. "He was a seventh year, he would be better. I just…I think I'm a good player, too."

"I'm sure you are," Castiel said reassuringly. "Don't listen to Balthazar, he likes to scare people." He gave his friend a slight glare, which was only returned with a lazy smirk.

"Thanks," Sam smiled tightly. "I'm glad you're captain, Castiel. You definitely deserve it. You're an amazing Seeker; I came to every match last year."

Now it was Castiel's turn to blush. "Er…thanks, Sam."

"Ooh, look, Cassie's embarrassed," Balthazar teased. "Look at him turn red."

"Shut up," Castiel groaned, turning back to Sam, who looked vaguely amused. "Thank you. I'm sure you're very good as well. I hope you try out."

"Oh, I definitely will –" Sam was cut off by the compartment door sliding open once again. Well, maybe banging was the more appropriate term. However, the end result was another boy stalking into the small compartment, this one tall and built, with green eyes, a multitude of freckles covering his face, and Gryffindor robes. Dean Winchester.

Dean was in Castiel's year and, as stated, in Gryffindor house. One of the most popular boys in their year, he was widely known as a troublemaker, unlike his nearly angelic younger brother. There were even rumors that he held the record for most detentions within a single school year. Castiel doubted this was true, but he was sure that Dean's record of wrongdoings would shock even Balthazar, who was probably in and out of detention at least once a fortnight.

Castiel had never really talked to Dean except for once in third year when they had been partnered in Care of Magical Creatures and Castiel had managed to get bitten by a knarl, shockingly enough. Dean had escorted Castiel to the hospital wing, but only after making fun of him the whole way there, saying that he didn't even know that knarls had teeth. Castiel had tried not to speak much to the elder Wincehster since.

"Hey, Sammy," Dean kicked his little brother's leg in an almost teasing manner. "I've been looking for you. What're you doing in here?"

"Sam was just –," Castiel began to explain what their discussion was but firmly shut his mouth with a warning look from Sam, the other boy's eyes pleading him not to say anything. "It was nothing. Nice talking to you, Sam."

"Yeah, same_, Sammy_," Balthazar emphasized the nickname. Dean glared daggers at him as Sam got to his feet.

"Thanks," he nodded at Castiel. "Talk to you soon, hopefully."

Castiel gave a slight wave as Sam followed his brother out of the compartment. Balthazar gave a long, drawn-out sigh as he kicked his feet up onto Castiel's chair.

"Soooo," he drawled. "Why don't we plan out a magnificent way get our sixth year started with a bang?"

Castiel gave his friend long look before picking up his book and attempting to immerse himself in the spells once again. However, if Balthazar had anything to say about it, he probably wouldn't even last a page.

* * *

"So what was that all about?"

Dean glanced sidelong at his younger brother. Sam had been very secretive about where he was headed the second the pair arrived at the platform. Dad couldn't have been bothered to take them, so they had come just the two of them, same as always, and the same as when Sammy first started at Hogwarts. Dean was used to it, even though it made Sam angry; it was the way it was. Nothing he could do to change it.

Anyway, Sam had disappeared the moment they arrived, muttering something about finding a person. Dean had stumbled upon him with two older Ravenclaws, looking to be in his own year. Dean recognized one of them as the Milton bastard who made smartass comments all throughout Herbology last year. Dean had hated him. The other one, though, he didn't know who he was. He seemed strangely familiar, though, as if Dean should have been able to recognize him but couldn't.

"Nothing," Sam had answered him automatically. "Just some questions about the year. Anyway," he said, changing the subject. "Shouldn't you be with your own friends instead of hanging out with your kid brother?"

"I always wanna hang out with my kid brother," Dean shoved Sam's shoulder as the two strode side by side down the train corridors. They were nearly empty right now, seeing as how the train had just started moving. "And I'm gonna go find 'em right now. Jess is looking for you, by the way. Nearly chewed my ear off telling me to find you."

Dean grinned when Sam blushed crimson. Jessica Moore was Sam's best friend, and the two of them would make a great pair if only Sam had the balls to ask her out. Dean supposed that was the reason he was in Gryffindor and Sam was in Ravenclaw.

"I'll go find her, then," Sam said. "Do you know where she is?"

"Like the…second to last corridor," Dean racked his brains for a minute. "She's with Andy and Ava and all the other nerds you hang out with."

"Thanks," Sam rolled his eyes at Dean. "Thanks a bunch. See you later."

Dean watched his brother's retreating back until it fully disappeared in the opposite direction, smiling slightly, before he headed off to find his own compartment. It was only a couple of doors down, and pulling the door open, his ears were immediately ransacked with the sound of an argument.

"…All I'm telling you is that you can't do a shield charm to save your life," Charlie was saying, raising an eyebrow in Garth's direction. The fifth year looked highly put out before biting back a reply.

"Well, you can't deny my endless expertise in regards to Charms work. You nearly failed Charms," he grinned victoriously while Charlie shook her fist at him.

Dean sank into the chair next to the door, smiling. "Having fun?"

"Dean!" Charlie squealed, jumping up from her seat to hug him, throwing her arms around his neck as he squeezed her tightly, picking her up off her feet slightly.

"Oi, let the rest of us have a piece!" Another female voice entered the fray. Dean set Charlie down and turned to the direction of the new voice.

"You know you want a piece of me, Jo Harvelle," he cocked an eyebrow at the shorter blonde, who stared back at him with her trademark smartass expression. No, seriously, she managed to convey smartass with just the way her face looked. It was a gift.

She gave him a long-suffering sigh. "I suppose. C'mere, you son of a bitch, I want a hug too."

Dean leaned over Garth to squeeze her tiny frame before clapping Garth, along with Benny, who was sitting across from him, on the shoulder. "So, what've I missed, other than another pointless Charlie and Garth argument?"

"It wasn't pointless," Garth said indignantly. "We were fighting over which of us would win in a duel."

"So, pointless, then," Dean deduced with a grin while Charlie decked the back of his head playfully.

"Have a good summer?" Benny drawled.

"Yeah, good enough," Dean lied smoothly. Hoping to change the subject, he suddenly noticed an adornment on his friend's chest that hadn't been there previously. "Hey, you're Quidditch captain!"

"Glad you noticed," a faint smiled graced Benny's features. "Jo and I are going to kick ass this year, you'll see."

"Oi, forgetting about me?" Garth mock glared at Benny, who just shrugged his shoulders, as if to apologize.

Dean grinned at Benny in happiness. Although Dean loathed flying with an unending passion (shut up, brooms were fucking scary), Benny and Jo had been Beaters on the Gryffindor team together for two years now. Jo was a year younger than Benny and a hell of a lot scrawnier, but she was just as strong, and they made a great duo out on the field. Dean had watched them enough times to know.

Garth, on the other hand, had just started playing Seeker the previous year. He wasn't amazing, but according to Jo "he's better than the majority of the knuckleheads who tried out." Dean and Charlie both preferred the sidelines, Charlie because while she was a decent flyer, she couldn't play Quidditch to save her life and Dean because _brooms are fucking scary, okay?_

"Well, congratulations," Benny smiled warmly at Dean's words. "I knew you could do it."

"Just wish I knew who the other captains were," Benny pointed out. "So I could see whose skills I'm up against."

"Lucifer's definitely still Slytherin captain," Garth's mouth twisted into a scowl. "Saw him when I got here, strolling around with that badge on his chest, flouting it. Michael's Head Boy, he was doing the same thing."

Dean groaned. Michael and Lucifer Blake were twin brothers of Ravenclaw and Slytherin respectively, and apparently their gold, riches, and blood type made them think they were superior to all else. Dean loathed them both with a fiery passion.

"The older Campbell is probably still Hufflepuff captain," Jo said thoughtfully. "But Fletcher from Ravenclaw graduated last year, so it can't be him."

"I found Sam sitting with a couple of Ravenclaws," Dean remembered suddenly. "One of them was wearing a Quidditch captain badge."

"Who?" Benny asked, curiosity showing in his face. Dean racked his brains, but for the life of him, he couldn't recall the dark-haired boy with the piercing eyes and the half smile.

"I don't know," he said truthfully. "Didn't recognize him."

His friends all groaned in unison. Dean sighed, knowing that his memory was rather shitty and that it could get him into trouble sometimes. Like right now, for instance.

"Either your memory got even worse over the summer," Charlie told him bluntly. "Or you just became the most unobservant person in the entire fucking universe."

"Thanks for the kind words, Char," Dean rolled his eyes at her, nudging her shoulder with his own. She smiled at him and Dean was violently reminded of how much he missed his friends over the summer.

Of course, Sammy had been there, so it wasn't all bad. And someone had needed to stop John from picking on Sam too much like he always did. Especially when he was drunk. Which was more often than not. Again, Dean was used to it. The seemingly endless stash of mulled mead and firewhiskey in the cellar was basically the only given in the Winchester house.

But they had made it. He and Sammy, they always made it. And now they were back at Hogwarts, where Sam could get on his way to becoming the greatest fucking genius the Wizarding World had ever seen and Dean could go back to making sure that dream became a reality.

While he had a bit of fun with his best friends, of course.

The four them had sunk back into conversation once more, and as Dean rested his head against the compartment door, he managed to tune them almost all the way out as his eyelids drooped. He didn't sleep well on any given night, so a nap was always welcome in his book. He drifted off into the realm of dreams with a slight smile on his face for the first time in two months, for he was finally back where he could have just a tiny bit of comfort.


	2. Desperate and Broken

**Hope you enjoy!**

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, teach us something please…" Sam's lips unconsciously quirked into a smile as he watched Jess belt out the school song. She was horribly off-key and the tuning was atrocious, but there was something almost magical about the way she was still smiling at him as if Sam was the only person in her world. Jess was the only person in his right now.

"Excited for the feast, then?" He asked her. After the train at arrived at Hogsmeade Station, the two of them had departed together and were now headed up to meet the carriages, surrounded by a throng of other students. Their friends, Andy and Ava, must have gotten separated from them during the pushing and shoving match that always commenced once the students filtered off the train, but Sam couldn't bring himself to care. As long as he had Jess, everything else sort of blurred to the side.

"Of course!" She slung an arm around his shoulder, causing Sam to gain a few goose bumps at her touch. Not that he would ever admit that, of course. "Who do you take me for, Winchester?"

Sam chuckled as the two of them made their way toward the front of the crowd. Many of the carriages had already pulled away, escorting students up to the castle. Approaching what seemed to be an empty carriage, Sam took a moment to pat the thestral that pulled it.

Sam had been able to see the odd, black skeletal creatures since he had first come to the school. He had been frightened upon realizing that he seemed to be the only one that could see their forms – But Dean had explained that the only people who could see thestrals are those that had seen a person die with their own eyes. Dean hadn't been able to see them, but Sam had. He knew it was his mother's death he had witnessed, even if he couldn't remember it in the slightest.

"Aren't you going to open the door for your lady friend?" Jess cocked an eyebrow at him, unwittingly making Sam laugh at her expression.

"Why of course, my darling," he reached forward for the door and swung it open. "Anything for you."

"Anything for _me_?" A voice came from within the carriage. "How very sweet of you."

A bubble of dread appeared in Sam's stomach as he stifled a groan. He stepped forward to see the person in the carriage, even though he already knew who it was. "Hello, Ruby."

Ruby Lestrange, a short, black-haired, vivacious girl in the year above Sam gave him a pearly white smile from her seat within the carriage. Next to her was (Sam's stomach bubbled unpleasantly once more) was Bela Talbot from the sixth year, who was widely known as the school con artist. She had cheated more people out of their galleons than anyone else in the school, according to the rumors. Both Slytherin students, Sam had never spoken to Bela much. Ruby, however, seemed to have a special interest in him, which was why he tried to avoid her presence as much as humanly possible.

"It's been far too long," Ruby's smile curled into something more akin to a scowl as she laid eyes on Jess, who had been simply standing there watching the exchange, glancing at Sam a bit worriedly. "And who's your cute little blonde friend?"

"Erm, Ruby, this is Jess," Sam gestured awkwardly between them. Jess was eyeing Ruby with something akin to animosity; it made Sam's heart beat a bit faster. "Jess, this is Ruby."

After a moment of silence, Ruby replied "Well, Jess, I'm sure it's a pleasure. You two coming in or what?"

"Huh?" Sam asked, momentarily confused before remembering they were supposed to enter the carriage. "Oh, right, of course." Offering Jess one of his hands, he helped her next to Ruby before getting in the door himself, shutting it behind him. As if on cue, the thestrals took off at a moderate speed toward the castle gates.

Sam turned to the three girls he shared the carriage with – Dean would have made a dirty joke about Sam getting some right now, but luckily he wasn't here – Ruby and Bela were eyeing Jess like hawks; she looked vaguely uncomfortable with the seating arrangements, and Sam really couldn't blame her. The two older Slytherins were slightly intimidating.

"So, Sam," Ruby's eyes snapped off of Jess and onto Sam. He swallowed. "I hear you're trying out for the Quidditch team."

"Who told you that?" Sam was suddenly much more interested in the conversation. He didn't want it getting around that he was thinking of trying out; it might get back to Dean, and that was a conversation he desired to avoid. The only people that knew were Jess and Castiel, and Sam knew Jess would never speak of it if he asked her not to. And Castiel seemed trustworthy. Oh, wait – Castiel's friend, Balthazar, had been in the compartment when they had been talking. He might have said something.

"Balthazar Milton," she said, confirming Sam's suspicions. "The gossiper he is and all."

Sam made a mental note to avoid Balthazar Milton from now. "Well, yeah, erm, I don't really know if I'm trying out yet, so…"

"Well, I would definitely see you come and play," Ruby's expression was far too lustful for Sam to take her seriously. "When I'm not playing myself, of course."

Ruby was a Chaser for the Slytherin team, Sam was aware. She wasn't the best player on the team, though, for her counterpart and close friend Meg was easily the superior Chaser. And Dick Roman, the third Chaser, was better than either of them, even if he was the butt of many jokes about his name.

"Well, uh, if I do make the team, I'll look for you," Sam lied quickly, hoping for the conversation to stop. Jess and Bela looked as if they probably agreed with this sentiment. Jess still looked terribly out of place and Bela was eyeing Ruby as if she wasn't sure what had come over her friend.

Without warning, the carriage suddenly came to a halt. Sam praised every known deity in relief; anything more than ten seconds around Ruby was far too much for him to handle.

"Well, see you," Sam's words came out in a rush as he pulled open the carriage door. Grabbing Jess's hand, he dragged her away from the two Slytherin students and toward the bright lights of Hogwarts castle. He smiled up at his home for the next ten months; the only true home he'd ever known. He glanced sidelong at Jess, whose expression mirrored his as she gazed up at their school.

"Sorry about that," he told her. "Ruby can be kind of…"

Jess nodded, understanding exactly where Sam was going with his sentence. "I get it. As long as you won't be abandoning me for her anytime soon."

"Never," Sam promised, and with a grin present upon his features once more, he strode up to the castle and in through the entrance hall to the place he had longed for the entirety of the summer.

* * *

"Ooh, look whose back! It's Winchester and Fitzgerald, the dynamic duo of _evil_!"

"Hullo, Peeves," Dean glanced upward as he walked through the huge double doors into Hogwarts castle. The train ride had gone faster than expected (mainly because he'd been fast asleep), and they had arrived at Hogwarts before they knew it. Coming in through the doorway, he barely had time to enjoy and revel in the best place he'd ever known, the world's most vindictive poltergeist had greeted them.

"Will you be back to destroy my fun once again?" The poltergeist bobbed in front of the five Gryffindors, glaring at each of them in turn. Dean chuckled looking at him; Peeves had a hatred of him and Garth that could never be rivaled, even by the Slytherins Dean had hexed the most. The reason stemmed from the previous year when a particular incident occurred, dubbed "The Treacle Tart Fiasco" by the majority of the student body. It was never spoken of, for it always got Peeves riled up into a mood.

"Of course, Peeves," Garth spoke up from his position next to Benny. The five of them had stopped the flow of students so that the others all had to swarm around them instead of through them. "Our lives would be empty without wrecking yours constantly."

"Well, I hope you enjoy it," Peeves gave them a twisted smile. It was only then that Dean noticed that the poltergeist's hands had been behind his back the entire time. Before Dean could become suspicious, however, Peeves flew high above them, thrust his hands outward, and dropped what appeared to Dean to be water balloons above their heads.

"Look out!" Jo shouted a warning, but it was too late. Seconds later, Dean found himself soaked to the bone, with the innards of a red balloon on his shoulder. Dean glared up at the spot where Peeves had been, but the damn poltergeist had vanished; one of his few talents, the other including wreaking havoc upon the student body.

"Damn you, Peeves!" Dean's attention was brought to Charlie, who looked doubly as soaked as the rest of them. The students that weren't a part of the debacle, only splashed slightly, were looking on with vague amusement. "Damn you to the ninth circle of hell, you fucking poltergeist! I swear to Merlin that I will end you!"

"Char," Jo was having difficulties containing her giggles. "You know it's kind of impossible to kill a poltergeist."

"I don't care!" Charlie stamped her foot like a child having a tantrum. "I'll find a way!"

"C'mon, Charlie," Dean walked past Jo to sling an arm around his best friend's damp shoulder. "Let's go drown your sorrows in a delicious Hogwarts feast, huh?"

"Fine," Charlie grumbled, throwing Dean's arm off of her less than gracefully. "But I call the first slice of pie."

While Dean complained about how unfair that statement was, he and his friends finally made their way through the entrance hall. The students around them were all gibbering on about their holidays and the new school year, along with many other boring and tedious topics. Not interesting in the slightest to Dean; they were the simple formalities of the school year beginning once again. He chose instead to initiate real conversations, not simple small talk, with people he actually _wanted _to talk with.

And speaking of someone he wanted to talk with, he suddenly got a glimpse of the back of Sam's head as his group of five entered the Great Hall with its starry sky and floating candles. "Hey, Sammy!" Dean called, hoping to get his attention. Luckily, Sam turned to face him, his face splitting into a smile. Gesturing to Jess, who was standing next to him – Dean suppressed rolling his eyes over the fact that the two of them weren't dating yet – And the pair pushed and shoved through the students entering the hall and toward Dean.

Gesturing for his friends to sit down at the Gryffindor table without him, Dean turned to his baby brother who had finally reached him. "Heya, kid. Wanted to ask you something."

"What is it?" Sam asked, sounding slightly out of breath. Apparently forcing your way through a crowd was more tiring than it appeared. "And you better hurry up, the Sorting is going to start soon."

"Who's the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain You were sitting with him earlier, right?" Dean was surprised at his question. He'd originally been thinking of asking if any Slytherin bastard had bothered Sam on the train, as they so often did. His brother was a magnet for bullies when he arrived at Hogwarts, being his young and geeky self; luckily Dean had been there to set a few things straight for anyone who dared to pick on Sammy. But the black-haired captain had been bothering him all day now and Dean had to know who he was.

Sam looked confused before opening his mouth. "…Castiel. Castiel Novak."

"Wait, no, that's not Castiel Novak." Now Dean was the confused one. The fact his brother just uttered had to be a lie, because that kid was_ not_ Novak. "Castiel Novak is short and awkward and nerdy. He…He was _not_."

"You're oblivious," Sam looked mystified. Jess just gave a small laugh from next to him. "That was Castiel. You've only gone to school with him for six years, Dean. Recognizing him should be easier than this."

"But …" Dean was having trouble processing this new information. The Castiel he remembered was a midget; endlessly awkward and tripping over everything in sight. Well, maybe he wasn't a midget. But he was shorter than Dean, whose height was rather impressive for his age. And maybe he wasn't a complete klutz; it just seemed like that to Dean. He hadn't even remembered that Castiel had played Quidditch; he wasn't that great at the whole noticing things notion.

Still, there was no way that the tall, crystal-eyed boy with the deep, gravelly voice and the tousled black hair was the same person that Dean remembered. The person from the train was _gorgeous_ – No, Dean didn't think that. Not at all. He was just shocked by this new revelation.

"You have issues with memory," Sam declared, his face showing amusement at Dean's absolute surprise. "I'll see you later, okay? We'll have dinner on Wednesday?"

"Of course we will," Dean mock glared at Sam, momentarily forgetting his stunted thought process on this whole Castiel thing. "I'm insulted that you would think otherwise." Ever since Sam arrived at Hogwarts in Dean's third year, the pair of them had eaten dinner together on Wednesdays, usually at the Gryffindor table, just to catch up with each other and so Dean could have constant reassurance that his brother was still okay; paranoia left over from their younger years. But the tradition had continued all of these years and it wouldn't stop just because they were a year older.

"See you, then," Sam gave a wave.

"Yeah, Dean, bye," Jess followed Sam through the crowd and back toward the Ravenclaw table. As he saw them take a seat near the end of it, Dean headed in the opposite direction to locate his friends.

He found them sitting near the very end of the Gryffindor table, Charlie and Jo sitting opposite Benny and Garth. Dean swung his leg over the bench to take his customary seat next to Garth. "Hello again. Anything interesting happen while I was gone?"

"You were gone for five minutes, Dean," Benny snorted, rolling his eyes. "There's not much you _could _miss. What were you doing, anyway?"

"Talking to Sammy," Dean glanced up at the head table. Most of the teachers had congregated to their seats, including Headmaster Shurley. Harvelle wasn't there yet; she must have been escorting the first years along with Turner. But who Dean was really looking for was Bobby. A close family friend, he was Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher here at the school and Dean hadn't seen him all summer due to their father's estrangement from most of his former friends. Perhaps he was helping out with the first years as well, or else he hadn't yet arrived. "And guess what he told me?"

"What?" Jo asked, tapping her foot impatiently. Dean chuckled slightly at her; he knew she was anxious for the feast to begin what with her weak stomach.

"Captain for Ravenclaw," Dean said, wondering if his friends would be as shocked as he was. "It's Castiel Novak, can you believe it?"

Garth snorted into his hands while Charlie and Jo rolled their eyes, giggling. Benny just gave him a glance and said "You're oblivious. How could you not recognize Novak?"

"He looks different!" Dean said defensively, wondering why his friends were being so unsupportive in this new revelation of his. "Like, really different. He's…well…you know…"

"Sexy?" Charlie said suggestively, wiggling her eyebrows and laughing at the revolted expression on Dean's face.

"No!" He defended. "Just…different, y'know?"

"Well, I'm not surprised it's Novak" Benny said, obviously in an attempt to change the subject. "Best seeker I've ever seen on a Hogwarts school team. No offense, Garth."

"None taken," Garth took the put-down in his stride. "Novak's fierce. Almost knocked me off my broom once."

"Once?" Jo laughed. "More like seven or eight times in the last year alone."

"Shut up," Garth reached across the table of jabbering students to flick her forehead with his pointer finger. Dean chuckled at his friends' antics, for they truly were an entertaining bunch. He almost felt sorry for the other students that had to deal with the five of them together at one time, for they were quite a formidable team.

Suddenly, the hall's jabbers became whispers. Dean craned his neck to see what the commotion was; it was as expected, the first years were trailing Professor Ellen Harvelle in between the house tables and up to the stool where the old, dilapidated sorting hat was sitting.

Dean glanced up at the teachers' table; Bobby and Turner had just taken their seats. Dean was correct in assuming that they had been helping out with the first years. Dean waved a hand to Bobby in greeting; the older man responded by an eye roll followed by a half wave. Dean grinned, happy to see the man who'd always been the ultimate father figure to him and his brother.

Ellen Harvelle, Jo's mother and the Transfiguration professor, cleared her throat for the attention of the hall. She began her speech to the first years about the Sorting hat and how the magical item worked, but Dean had heard it far too many times to pay proper attention to what words issued from her mouth.

Instead, his eyes roamed the hall, seeking out the people who he hadn't seen in two months' time. He made eye contact with a few other Gryffindors; Adam Milligan and Sarah Blake both gave him polite nods. Since he didn't have many other Gryffindor friends, he trained his eyes on the other house tables.

He met Lisa Braedan of Hufflepuff's eye first – The two of them had dated for a brief time last year. She gave him a small smile and a wave; they had actually ended on relatively good terms, unlike many of Dean's girlfriends and more often than not, one night stands. They had mutually decided to cut it off on the grounds that they just didn't want to pursue the relationship further. In other words, they were bored. Usually, Dean was the only one who thought relationships tedious, so he was grateful they were on the same page.

Lisa was sitting next to Becky Rosen, whom Dean tried his hardest to avoid meeting eyes with. Becky was only slightly insane and had a raging crush Sam, so being with her wasn't on Dean's list of things to do today.

It was the same with Ruby, the dark-haired Slytherin girl that Dean hated with a passion. Seeking her out, she was sitting in the center of the Slytherin table with a group of other slimy snakes, looks unchanged. Next to her was Meg Masters, whom Dean also had an unadulterated loathing for, along with Bela Talbot. Dean didn't hate Bela as much as the other girls, but she was still a bitch.

And attached to Meg's hip was Lucifer Blake, whose name made Dean's lip curl instinctively. Lucifer deserved an award for being the most annoying, pretentious bastard Dean had ever laid eyes upon. His only rival was his twin brother Michael of Ravenclaw – Dean's eyes switched tables to locate him as well. He almost puked at the sight of the Head Boy badge sitting atop Michael's chest. This year was going to be torture with Michael in that precarious position, especially seeing as how he had a specific hatred for Dean in general.

Only a few seats down from Michael, Dean noticed now, was Castiel. He still couldn't believe that this was the same person he had vaguely been aware of the previous year; he must have changed plenty over the summer. The other boy was apparently listening attentively to the sorting ceremony, for he clapped for every student, even those who weren't sorted into Ravenclaw, a polite practice Dean had never quite mastered. Something about him was intriguing, though; something Dean couldn't quite put a finger on. Hmm. Maybe if Castiel was in any of his NEWT classes he'd strike up a conversation, if not for the sake of friendship, than to ask him how the hell he had managed to recreate his entire genetic structure, for in Dean's opinion, this had to be the result of magic.

Dean's eyes darted to the head table just in time to see Headmaster Shurley stand up, his navy robes flowing out behind him into his golden chair. Dean tuned back in to hear his speech; while Shurley wasn't the best teacher in the universe, his speeches were always amusing.

"Hello, students, welcome back to Hogwarts!" Shurley's words quieted most everyone down, though there were still a few whispers echoing in the hall. "Erm, it's, ah, great to see you all again."

Dean had to hide a snicker there. Shurley stuttered far too much to inspire complete respect, although Dean would still prefer him as Headmaster than anyone else, not just for entertainment factor, but because he was still a powerful wizard, despite outward appearances.

"First years, try to, ah, remember that the Forbidden Forest is an out of bounds area," Shurley called out. "And it's still out of bounds even if you're not in first year. So keep out."

A few chuckles littered the hall, as it was sound advice. Shurley, however, continued to plow on. "Also note that there will be no magic used in the corridors. At all. Ever. So how about you don't do that?"

Dean already knew that this was a rule waiting to be broken.

"And I think that's all I'll say for now, since, you're all waiting for our delicious feast. So enjoy!"

Dean sighed in contentment as Shurley took back his seat and an array of the most delectable goodies in all of mankind began appearing out of thin air and onto the table in front of him. Helping himself to an overlarge helping of mashed potatoes, he couldn't help but smile. Hogwarts feasts were always a reason for celebration. And even though the next day would bring the beginning of his difficult NEWT classes, new encounters with old enemies, and what was sure to be a plentiful amount of horrible experiences, Dean couldn't help but feel content.

Well, that was the first mistake.


	3. The Sound of a Fight

"Wake up, lazy ass!"

Castiel's half-awake brain barely registered the words; they sounded like they were issued from some far off place beyond his realm of comprehension. He did, however, process the fact that the posh London accent belonged to Balthazar and that he was awakening Castiel from the wonderful world of the imagination that Castiel so enjoyed spending time encased in.

He groaned as he felt Balthazar start shaking his shoulders. "Nnnghh," his mouth issued an involuntary reaction. Blinking blearily, he saw his friend – if he could even be called that – grinning at him, eyes shining maniacally.

"Rise and shine, Cassie boy," Castiel glared up at the other boy, though he still was not quite awake enough to be angry. "First day of classes."

"Someone should execute you for your crimes against the Wizarding World," Castiel unceremoniously shoved Balthazar off of his four-poster bed. He toppled off, but popped up a second later, with that disgusting grin ever-present on his godforsaken face.

Castiel was most definitely aware of his anger now.

"You love me," Balthazar reached forward and grabbed Castiel's hand, pulling him up off of his rumpled bed. He groaned again, louder this time, but still allowed Balthazar to pull him up. "You probably have filthy dreams about me, too."

"You're horrible," Castiel rolled his eyes as he staggered across the room and toward the bathroom to the shower. Balthazar liked to make dirty insinuations about the pair of them at least once a day, though Castiel usually felt ill at the mere thought of ever being intimate with Balthazar. Luckily they were just jokes; while Castiel was in no way averse to men, he had a particular allergy to the idea of sleeping with his friend. Well, he wasn't exactly in the mood to call Balthazar a friend at the current moment in time, but that was beside the point.

After about fifteen minutes of showering, changing into his uniform, and otherwise preparing for the day ahead, Castiel felt less volatile toward Balthazar and the two headed down to breakfast together. They passed a few acquaintances of his that he waved at, along with a few girls that Balthazar flirted mercilessly with, but no one of any import.

Arriving in the Great Hall, they were immediately greeted by Professor Harvelle. Head of And thelawand the teacher of Transfiguration, she was a bit of a hardass, but a caring and competent one all the same. Today she looked harried and in a rush, which was why Castiel immediately put a hand on her arm.

"Are you alright, Professor?" He asked concernedly. Balthazar rolled his eyes from next to him; he always thought that Castiel kissed up to the teachers. But it was just in his nature to be concerned over other people's well-being, as he did the same with other students. Well, the ones who didn't aggravate him completely, anyway, of which Balthazar was one.

"I'm fine, Novak," she said, slapping Castiel's hand off of her, but Castiel simply smiled. She did this every single time anyone showed affection for her, even her daughter, whom Castiel knew vaguely as a Gryffindor in the year below him. "Just have to clear all the sixth years for their new classes, and that includes you two."

"So, Castiel," she said, glancing down at the parchment clutched in her right hand. "You're cleared for Transfiguration, Potions, Charms, Herbology, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ancient Runes, and Arithmancy. It's definitely a full schedule. Are you dropping any?"

"Arithmancy," Castiel replied. While he had enjoyed that class, it did not fit into his ambitions. He wanted to be a Healer, to help people who needed it. All of the other classes were needed for such a prestigious career except Ancient Runes, which he was taking for a bit of fun, seeing as how it was one of his favorite classes. "The rest I'll keep."

"Sounds fine with me," Harvelle gave him a tight-lipped smile. "Good job in my class, by the way."

"Thank you, ma'am," Castiel was pleasantly surprised, for Harvelle's compliments were indeed a rarity. "And, erm, thanks for making me Quidditch captain."

"You were the best for the job," Harvelle said. "No offense," she added, offhand, to Balthazar, who was still standing there waiting for his own schedule to be set. "Hope you do me proud. Have you set a date for tryouts?"

"No, but I'll do that later today," Castiel told her, to which she nodded.

"Hope you get a decent team put together," she said, tapping another piece of parchment with her wand. "I'd hate to lose to Crowley or Singer again. Heard of sore losers? Well, they're even sorer winners."

Castiel gave a short laugh, Balthazar joining him. Harvelle never censored anything for the students; it was very refreshing. Professor Singer did the exact same. Taking the parchment from her outstretched hand, he looked over his schedule for the first time. He saw that he was to head to a double period of Transfiguration first thing before he had a break, one which would most likely be overflowing to the brim with Harvelle's homework.

Waiting a moment for Balthazar's schedule to get cleared, the two sat down for a quick breakfast of eggs and sausage before rushing up to Harvelle's classroom so that she wouldn't rip out their souls, which she was known to do to an incompetent student on occasion.

They slid into two seats in the very back of the classroom three minutes before the bell. The room was already filled with a variety of people from all the houses; there were, however, fewer Slytherins than the rest. It seemed that the house of the green hadn't done as stellar as Harvelle would have liked on their OWL.

"Oh, thank Merlin you two are here," One of the only Slytherins, who was seated immediately, in front of Castiel and Balthazar, turned around. Her smiling eyes flickered toward them as Castiel's face split into a grin.

"Hello, Anna."

Anna Milton beamed back at him, her teeth a shining white, hair blazing a sunny auburn. Balthazar's twin sister, she was far less irritating than her blond brother, and easily more pleasant to be around. Just as Castiel hadn't seen Balthazar all summer, Anna had been absent from his life as well. Gabriel had written to her daily, though – The two were actually fit well together when they weren't being sickeningly adorable.

"It's great to see you again, Castiel," she said earnestly. "I'd give you a hug if Harvelle wasn't about to walk in the room."

Castiel laughed. "Same to you. Have you wizened up and dropped by brother yet?"

"Not yet," Anna winked. "I think he might be a keeper."

"He's a Beater!" Balthazar joked. "Thought you'd know this by now, little sis, you've only gone to all of his games."

The three broke into laughter once more at the reference to Gabriel's position on the Quidditch field. The brothers had played on another on many occasions, Gabriel slamming more than the average number of Bludgers in his direction. Castiel was about to open his mouth to ask about Anna's summer, as it was the polite thing to do after not seeing a person for two whole months, but Harvelle chose that moment to stride purposefully into the classroom, looking much more well put together than she had at breakfast. She had to make a good first impression for the year, of course.

The room hushed as she opened her mouth. "Listen up, folks, this is one of the hardest years you'll ever have in the history of your education. NEWTs are big deals, kiddos, so don't take them lightly. Like it or not, you might actually have to do some work."

It was good to be back, Castiel thought.

* * *

It was only the first day of the year, with a mere two classes under his belt, but Dean already felt like banging his head against a concrete wall. The amount of his homework was astronomical; Harvelle and Alcinous were trying to kill him with the essays and the practical workings of magic. And before the day came to an end, he would have to suffer through Crowley. The Potions master of the school, Crowley and Dean had loathed each other since first arriving at the school and had not stopped since.

"Wipe that grin off your face, Bradbury," Dean threatened Charlie. The redhead was beaming as the pair walked down to Crowley's dungeons, and Dean didn't understand it in the slightest. "Why are you looing forward to _Crowley_?"

"I'm not," Charlie said in response, still smiling in that ungodly way. "Crowley's a bastard, everyone knows that. But Potions, Dean. _Potions_."

Dean glanced sidelong at his best friend. She had always loved Potions even if it was being taught by the incarnate of Satan himself. She wanted to have a career in it, maybe even teach it one day. Dean had never understood her enthusiasm, but he needed to get his NEWT in the class if he was to become an Auror just as his father had done before him.

"Right," he teased. "Forgot about your monogamous relationship with Potions class."

"Shut up," she groaned, shoving his shoulder playfully with her own. A couple other students, Hufflepuffs, trickled past them. As far as Dean knew, he and Charlie were two of the very few Gryffindors continuing in this class. Benny wasn't; he wanted to be a Curse Breaker and Potions was not a required NEWT for that field.

They arrived at the door to Crowley's classroom less than a minute later. The putrid stench of the Potions ingredients had penetrated the halls for before that, however. Charlie relished in the smell and walked through the door immediately, while Dean had to take a deep breath before entering.

"Ah, hello again, Winchester Senior," An annoying, smooth Scottish accent said as Dean mentally groaned. He turned to face the short, black-haired professor that he had always loathed. "Wish I could say it was a pleasure to see you."

"Same to you," Dean forced a smile onto his face, knowing Crowley was trying to rile him up. "Professor."

"Glad to see you've learned some respect over the summer," Crowley flashed him a grin of pearly whites. The teacher had come down from his desk in order to call Dean out; the rest of the classroom was filled with students, albeit very few of them. Crowley's OWL was extremely hard to pass, possibly even more difficult than Bobby or Ellen's; Dean had actually spent time studying for Potions at last year's finish.

"Yep," Dean responded, trying not to let his temper get the best of him in the first class of the year. He turned from Crowley and slid into the seat next to Jo and nearest the doorway so as to have a quick escape route if need be.

"I don't think so," Crowley shook his head as he gestured between the pair of them. Charlie shot Dean a worried look while Dean felt a bubble of dread appear in his stomach. "You two together is a horrible combination; we'll never get a peaceful minute all year. Milton," he said, snapping his finger in the opposite direction.

Balthazar Milton lazily rose to his feet from his own table and his eyes flickered toward Crowley's with a bored expression. "Yeah, teach?"

"Switch seats with Winchester." The look on Crowley's face could only be described as pure evil, which was what Dean believed he was. Groaning and with an apologetic glance at Charlie, he picked up as bag and strode across the room. Well, at least Crowley hadn't had Balthazar and Charlie switch; Dean would have ripped his hair out if he had to work with Milton all year long.

Dean collapsed dramatically into Milton's old seat, which was as far from Charlie than could possibly be fathomed in such a small classroom. Turning, he faced his new partner for the year.

Ice blue eyes met his own and a bolt of recognition jolted through Dean. This was Castiel Novak. Well, the new Novak with the genetically altered facial structure, because Dean's mind still hadn't come to the realization that the two were one and the same.

"Hey, Novak," Dean greeted him casually. Castiel looked at him with a much more reserved gaze.

"Hello, Dean," he replied. Dean stiffened slightly from the use of the first name. It wasn't ordinary, especially since Dean had chosen to use Novak instead of Castiel. "It appears we'll be sitting next to one another for the duration of the year."

"Yeah, seems like it," Dean said, still slightly unnerved. "You good at Potions?"

"I'm alright," Castiel's gaze hadn't left Dean's. It was making him feel only a bit uncomfortable. "What about yourself?"

"Decent," Dean shrugged, telling the truth. He didn't exactly excel in his classes, but he'd managed to pull through with strong enough marks that his career path remained afloat. "Hope you're better than me."

Castiel let out a deep-throated chuckle. "I'm sure you're fine. And if you're not, I can get you a passing grade. In the practical sense, mind you. I won't be writing any essays."

Dean was surprised to find a laugh come out of his own throat as well. Castiel had never struck him as the dry, humorous type, and yet here he was. "Wouldn't expect you to – I've got other people for that."

"Hopefully there aren't threats involved in this scheme of yours," Castiel remarked back, eyebrows quirking up. Dean couldn't help but have a grin form on his face; his new partner's easy banter was definitely something he could get used to. "That might force me to report you."

"You don't look like a prefect," Dean shot back. It was only the truth, for the only badge on Castiel's chest was the one marking him as Quidditch captain. The single adornment was beating Dean's zero, however.

"I'm not," Castiel's foot was playing with the canvas book bag on the ground that Dean could only assume belonged to the other boy. "I just don't like people being bullied."

Castiel's formerly unfocused eyes were suddenly piercing Dean with electric blue. Dean could tell this wasn't banter anymore, that Castiel's sentence was serious. Didn't he know that their whole conversation was a joke?

"Hey, look, mate –" Dean started, but was suddenly cut off by Crowley cleared his throat a bit too loudly from the upper region of the classroom. Castiel immediately turned to face their professor while Dean let out a sigh. Castiel didn't really think he bullied people, did he? Maybe Dean wasn't the most approachable guy in the school, but he was no bully. Leave things like that to the Slytherins; that was his motto in these types of situations.

"I trust all of your brains have been utterly dumbed down over your summer vacation," Crowley's voice filled the classroom. Dean caught Charlie's eye from across the room; she looked about ready to murder Balthazar in his seat, much to Dean's pleasure. Noticing him looking, Charlie gave him a glance while miming slicing her own throat. Crowley hadn't stopped speaking, however. "And it is up to me to make sure you're up to speed for your first NEWT year."

Dean rolled his eyes, though he was careful to keep it under Crowley's radar. Honestly, the guy had eyes like a hawk, able to spot an impudent student from a mile away.

"And so, for your first lesson, I would like you to prepare the Draught of Living Death," Crowley said as the room broke into a hushed murmur of voices. "It is a potion that you will need to be able to concoct correctly if you have any chance of passing this class, so I suggest you don't screw it up. You have one hour. Begin now."

Crowley, turning, tapped his wand once against the blackboard on the wall facing the students. Words appeared from the wand's tip, a spider web contrasted against the darkness. The ingredients and instructions were now present and ready for the students to follow.

Dean sighed and pulled out his cauldron, not looking for in the slightest to the task approaching him. He glanced sideways at Castiel, who was already paging through his Advanced Potion Making book, and unless he was mistaken, avoiding Dean's eye. Just as he lit a fire underneath the cauldron with a flick of his wand, he pulled his own book out of his bag and paged to the complicated recipe that had been duplicated on the board.

It was going to be a long year.

* * *

"Castiel?"

Sam stood nervously over the elder boy, toes digging through his socks and into the navy carpet of the Ravenclaw common room. Castiel was curled up in the plush chair just next to him, feet crossed under his body with what appeared to be an essay for Charms spread out over his legs, quill in his mouth, slightly dripping blots of ink onto the paper.

Sam tried not to laugh under his breath as Castiel hurriedly pulled the quill down to his side. "_Tergeo_," he muttered as the ink blots disappeared. Sam looked expectantly down at him as the Seeker gave him a slightly embarrassed smile. "What can I do for you, Sam?"

Sam's smile was more anxious than embarrassed. He'd been pondering all day throughout each and every one of his new classes whether or not he should continue with the question on the tip of his tongue. It probably wasn't the most productive way he could have spent his first day back, but in his mind, the matter pressing at his consciousness was far more important.

"I was wondering if you knew anyone who would help me practice for Quidditch tryouts," Sam bit out the words as quickly as he could. While he was by no means a shy person, he wasn't sure if it was appropriate to ask the Quidditch captain whether or not there was a trainer available. It could be seen as favoritism, and Sam was honest by nature.

Castiel's forehead creased as he frowned up at Sam as he tried his best to look at ease. Sam would have been more comfortable if Jess was here, but she had gone to the library after dinner in order to look up a reference for their Herbology essay. Therefore, Sam had to question Castiel alone. Well, not exactly alone, seeing as how there was a common room of people around the pair, but the idea was essentially the same.

"Why can't you train with your brother?" Sam's attention snapped back to Castiel, whose head was tilted in confusion. "It seems like this would be in his repertoire."

Sam gave a soft laugh at Castiel's seemingly expansive vocabulary. "Dean's actually quite terrified of brooms. And flying in general."

"You're kidding," A smile wormed its Castiel's features as he looked at Sam with a bit of incredulity. "Terrified?"

"Absolutely," Sam reassured him. He had always found Dean's aversion to heights humorous as well, as did most people that were aware of it, which were few and far between. Dean didn't exactly appreciate the spread of this particular bit of information. Which basically meant Sam told as many people as he possibly could. "He gets pale and shaky, starts humming Metallica to calm himself down."

"Starts humming what?" Castiel looked mystified.

"Sorry, Muggle reference," Sam brushed it off. Sam's father was a Muggle-born and therefore he knew quite a bit more about non-magical beings than the average Hogwarts student. "Anyway, do you know someone who'd be willing to help? It's just…I want to make sure I do well. I haven't practiced much with a Chaser."

"I could help train you."

Sam looked down at Castiel, expecting his expression to be a joking. He looked completely serious, however. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah," Castiel shrugged. "I usually am. Been told I wouldn't know a joke if it was dancing naked in front of me. But I've played Chaser before, although I prefer the position of Seeker. Balthazar's better than me, but I'd rather not entrust you to his care – He'd probably make crude sexual jokes and really do nothing to help in the slightest."

"Yeah, I don't really think I'd want him as a coach," Sam said, thinking of how he'd spread to Ruby about Sam's Quidditch fantasy. "No offense, I know he's your mate."

"None taken, he's a prat," Castiel said smoothly as Sam laughed. "But I'd be happy to help you. And I've been told I'm a decent teacher."

"But…" Sam pondered for a moment over the morale code of the Quidditch team. "Wouldn't that be considered favoritism? Couldn't you get demoted from captain for that?"

"Honestly?" Castiel chuckled. "I think Harvelle would rather each and every one of the players took a huge, not to mention illegal, swing of Felix Felicis before each match than lose to Crowley."

"True," Sam knew his Head of House better than most, seeing as how she was a family friend, and if there was one thing that Ellen Harvelle was, it was fiercely competitive. "You sure?"

"Of course I'm sure," Castiel gave him a look. "If I wasn't, I wouldn't have offered. I just booked the pitch for tryouts on Saturday, so I'd help you each night this week? Say, eight o'clock?"

"I'd say that's great," Sam was shocked at the simplicity of his task and wondered why he had previously been so anxious. "Thank you so much."

"No problem," Castiel said. "Thank you for wanting to try out so much. We need that kind of enthusiasm on our team; we just need new blood in general."

"Well, thanks again," Sam told him as he stepped back to allow the older students to continue with his essay. "I'll see you tomorrow at eight, then?"

"I'll be there."


	4. Father Has Spoken

In retrospect, it wasn't the worst way the year could have begun.

Sure, Castiel's stack of homework wasn't getting lighter anytime soon, Balthazar had almost let him take the blame on a curse gone awry in the halls on the third day, Professor Alcinous still loathed his very being, and Professor Crowley had forced him into sitting with Dean Winchester in Potions, and a total of sixteen people had come to ask him about Quidditch tryouts, but hey, it could have been going much worse.

He could have been murdered.

That was the bright side of things. The bright side wasn't the most illuminated place at the moment.

Much to his surprise, his saving grace had been his training sessions with Sam. They only lasted an hour or so, since they both were laden with work, but for the short period of time that Castiel was in the air, none of the worries plaguing his mind seemed all that pressing anymore.

And it helped that Sam was truly a great Keeper. Castiel had been overwhelmingly pleased the first time they had flown together. He had definite talent on a broomstick, and blocked goals with surprising ease. Castiel, who considered himself a semi-decent Chaser, had only managed to put away a few goals in their time together. He had Balthazar come out for one of the practices, as a more accomplished Chaser, and even he had been happy with Sam.

The young Winchester was not only a good player, but seemed to be a decent person as well, which was a necessary trait in a potential teammate. Hell, who was Castiel kidding? Sam was already his teammate. Sure, he'd give the other folks that tried out a grain of consideration, but he knew his mind was made up. Sam would be Ravenclaw Keeper, there was no question.

Castiel knew Sam was worried about how moral their situation was, but to be honest, what Castiel wanted was a successful team despite the pretense of favoritism. He wanted to prove that he was a capable Quidditch captain, that he deserved his badge.

It was Friday now, and with the tryouts occurring the next morning, Sam's flying was more nervous tonight. He had missed a couple of easy goals that Castiel knew he could have blocked without a second thought the day before. He hoped Sam got over the majority of his nerves by tryouts so that he would be able to fly at his top form.

When the two of them skidded to the ground a little after nine o'clock, Castiel was much more pleased with Sam, whose nerves had lessened enough during the hour in the air that he was able to pull off a couple of spectacular saves.

"Nice job," Castiel told him, clapping his shoulder. Sam grinned at him through his tangle of messy brown hair. "You'll do a great job in the morning, I'm sure."

"Thanks," Sam cracked his neck. "I hope so."

"Just get a good night's rest," Castiel told him. "And try not to worry too much."

"No promises on that last part," Sam chuckled as the pair made their way across the pitch and in the direction of the brightly lit castle. "I tend to get…nervous…easily…"

He trailed off, eyes fixed on a point ahead of them. Castiel turned to see Dean Winchester walking down the path to the Quidditch pitch toward them, looking rather pissed off and gazing directly at his younger brother. Sam was wincing and seemed to shrink as Dean strode toward them purposefully, which was a feat, as at only fourteen, he was already barely shorter than Castiel.

"So, Sammy," Dean had finally reached them. He was ignoring Castiel – which he didn't mind in the slightest – and focused directly on Sam.

Castiel had to feel bad for the young boy who had become his friend in the last week, for being on the receiving end of Dean's anger never appeared to bode well for anyone in the school. Well, if you listened to the rumor mill, at least.

"Benny told me he'd seen you down on the Quidditch pitch with Novak here for the past couple days. And then I heard a rumor – from Ruby Lestrange, no less – That you were trying out for the Ravenclaw team. And I said no way; you would have at least told _me _if you were trying out. So I came down to see for myself. Care to explain, little brother?"

"I –" Sam began. "I didn't know how to tell you. You freak out if I do anything out of the ordinary. You're always worrying about me. And I figured it would be easier to tell you after tryouts. Because, you know, I might not have made the team. And if I did, you couldn't do anything about it."

"Why would I want to do anything about it?" Dean's brow furrowed.

"Because you're always telling me what to do," Sam said defensively. "And I wanted to do something without you interfering. Which you do far more than you should, by the way."

Castiel felt as if he was intruding upon a private moment as Dean eyed Sam, his expression softening. "Hey, listen, Sam – I'm not mad. I'm proud of you. Just wish you would have told me. And if you wanted me to back off, you could've just said something."

"You would have ignored me," Sam said, although his tone was much more playful now than it had been before. "And don't be proud of me yet; I haven't actually made the team."

"Hey, you've got the captain training you, haven't you?" Castiel almost felt a sense of relief at be recognized, no longer feeling an outsider. "I'd say you have a pretty good chance."

"He does," Castiel still felt a bit like an intruder as he spoke up, although Sam looked even more relieved than himself that someone else was contributing to the conversation. "He's very good."

"And if the captain says it, it must be true," Dean clapped Sam's back. "Relax. And next time you're mad at me for no apparent reason, remember that I do listen to people on occasion."

"It's rare," Sam started to smile.

"Very," Dean said, mimicking his brother's grin. "Saw Jess on the way out; she wants you to meet her in the library."

"I guess I better go, then," Sam said. "Hey, Castiel, can you take my broom back up to my dorm, please? If it's not too much trouble, that is."

"Of course," Castiel said as Sam handed him his broom, a Comet Two Sixty. It was a nicer model than his own, which was an old Silver Arrow that used to belong to his father, one of the few possessions of his that Castiel owned. The broom wasn't even made anymore, it was that ancient. But it had sentimental value and it still flew wonderfully, so Castiel wasn't going to go replacing something that wasn't broken in the first place. "No problem."

"Thanks," Sam said as he started walking up the path and away from Castiel and Dean. "See you tomorrow, Castiel. Bye, Dean!"

Sam soon disappeared out of sight as he hurried up toward the castle. Dusk was beginning to fall and a chill was sweeping through the grounds, giving Castiel the initiative to start heading up toward Hogwarts as well. Dean fell into step next to him, much to his discomfort. The pair of them might be seated together in Potions, but they had spent the majority of their classes ignoring each other unless they needed an ingredient passed or something of that nature. Castiel wasn't sure how to talk to the Gryffindor boy. Sociality had never been his strong suit.

Instead of choosing to strike up a conversation with Dean, as any ordinary person would have done, no matter how awkward it would have been, Castiel started to speed up so as to avoid the whole 'talking' thing. His friends would have chastised him, but he couldn't help that socializing made him more nervous than he'd care to admit.

"Hey, Cas, wait up!" Castiel, turned, confused, as Dean hurried to meet his pace again.

"Cas?" He asked, confused.

"Nickname, sorry," Dean brushed it off as they continued walking on the winding path up toward the double doors that would lead inside. "I'm too lazy to say Castiel all the time."

"Are you insinuating that you'll be talking to me more?" Castiel raised an eyebrow. Out of all the conversations he could be having with Dean Winchester, this was one of the most unexpected he could have imagined.

"Er, yeah, I guess," Dean shrugged. "You're gonna be Sam's captain, right? Well, you better be."

"What do you mean?" His curiosity piqued.

"Well, I know you're helping him train and all," Dean started out. "So you probably think he's got a good chance. But it would be an asshole move with to ditch him after being all buddy-buddy with him."

"Dean, I have no intention of doing that," Castiel looked incredulously into Dean's eyes. They were extremely green, which he hadn't noticed before. "Sam is a great player, and I have no doubt in my mind that he'll make the House team."

"Well, thanks for the reassurance," Dean said, although Castiel detected sarcasm in his tone. "But if you do anything shitty to him, I will break your fingers off one by one. Just a warning for ya'."

Castiel had no idea whether Dean was kidding or not, so he decided to ignore the last comment. "You're very protective of your brother," he said instead, hoping to steer the conversation away from bodily harm. "It's a refreshing change from how I'm treated by my older brother."

"That's…Gabriel, right?" Dean said, surprising Castiel with his knowledge of other students. "Slimy little snake?"

"Slytherin doesn't automatically mean evil," Castiel corrected out of habit. While he agreed that most of Slytherin house was a bit on the slimy side, there were people like Anna and Gabriel, who were very good people not interested at all in the Dark Arts. Stereotyping of people bothered Castiel, so he always tried to treat everyone equally, unlike many students. "But yes, that's him. He's a decent person, I'm just quite sick of his jokes."

"Isn't he the one who pulled of the heist last year with getting Crowley's skin to change colors?" Dean said with a guffaw. "And Crowley couldn't figure out the counter curse? That was hilarious."

"You wouldn't think it was all that funny if he'd done the same thing to you a week previously to try it out," Castiel shuddered at the memory.

"Ouch," Dean winced. "Not fun."

"At all," Castiel agreed. They had approached the castle at long last, and Castiel was almost shocked to find he was disappointed as he walked through the double doors next to Dean. He had been enjoying the conversation, strangely enough, which was extremely odd. He usually didn't particularly enjoy conversation with anyone, let alone someone like Dean. "But then I charmed his hat to sing Celestina Warbeck for a few months, so we were even."

"That's great," Dean let out a laugh, which didn't make Castiel pleased. Not even a little bit. "I hope it was Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love, also known as the worst song in all of existence."

"You know the title?" Castiel's lips quirked up into a smile while Dean's face turned pink.

"Shut up, Novak," He pointed a finger at Castiel, though they both knew it was jokingly. "I'm warning you."

"I'm very afraid," Castiel raised an eyebrow sarcastically. For some reason, Dean found this funny, because his smile suddenly became so much brighter. It dimmed a moment later, however, when they reached the staircase that led toward Gryffindor Tower.

"Well, g'night," Dean said as he hopped up onto the first stair. "I'll be at tryouts in the morning. Try not to let Sam freak out too much."

"I'll try," Castiel lifted his hand as a parting gesture. "See you then."

"See you!" Dean called as he started up the staircase. Castiel turned away and headed in the other direction toward Ravenclaw Tower, and for some reason beyond his comprehension, he couldn't seem to stop smiling.


	5. Into Your Eyes

Quidditch Trials were not going as expected.

Castiel had been present at many different tryouts for the Ravenclaw team; he had secured his position as Seeker in the third year with vast amounts of competition, and was forced to win it back each year since. It definitely wasn't his first rodeo. But, he had learned in the course of a few hours, being captain of the team put quite a different spin on things.

However, he had managed to pull through for most of the morning. He had started with having all of the competitors flying a length around the pitch so that he could immediately strike out those who couldn't even fly a broom decently; there were far too many of these types of people. Probably just here with their friends, now that he thought about it.

Once he'd singled out those who made the strongest impressions, he had moved onto the position of the Beaters.

As both of their previous Beaters had graduated last year, Castiel needed to find a pair of them that were not only talented, but could work well together. There were a few strong contenders such as Arthur Collins and Jenny Vickers, but neither of them were true team players, as Castiel could tell from a mere half hour or so in their presence, which eliminated them. Plus, Jenny was chatting up Balthazar as she waited for her turn, and Castiel really did not want to deal with his best friend's horrible dating habits affecting the team.

Therefore, his selections for Beaters were limited to Harry Spengler and Ed Zeddmore, two enthusiastic fourth-years. Neither of them was amazing, but they were best friends that knew each other's Quidditch talents and tendencies and were already friends with Kali Rogers, the third remaining member of the team and Balthazar's fellow Chaser, so the decision became final. The pair was ecstatic at being told they were selected, although the rest of the competitors looked rather peeved. Castiel did hope he wouldn't be making any enemies out of bitter Quidditch players today.

Next it was time to select the Chasers – Balthazar and Kali actually became quite helpful during this portion of the day, much to Castiel's relief. And it only made sense that they were doing the work here; the third Chaser would, after all, have to work closely with the pair of them. As the Seeker, Castiel got the privilege of being a loner on the field, depending on no one but himself. He quite liked it that way.

Balthazar and Kali's decision ended up being quite simple. Ava Wilson, a perky, brown-haired fourth year, had been one of their reserves last year and performed very well during the tryouts. She was quick and agile, not to mention her forever friendly attitude toward all. It was a pleasing result, and she had given Castiel a firm hug when he told her the news, much to his surprise.

Finally, it was time to select the Keeper. Castiel had seen Sam arrive earlier and do his lap around the pitch. He had seemed nice and relaxed at that point, but as Castiel examined all the hopefuls for Keepers, the younger boy was turning a nasty green shade. He purposefully put Sam in the back of the line for this reason, hoping to dissuade his nerves with extra preparation time.

"You okay?" Castiel decided to murmur as Sam moved his way up in the line. He was next now; everyone had flown except for him. Sam had become considerably less green in the past minutes, but still appeared overly shaky.

"I'm gonna puke," Sam hissed under his breath, antsy as he cracked his knuckles a few times. Castiel glanced up at the hoops to see Veronica Richmond making a fool of herself. Kali threw the Quaffle to an easy left, but Richmond had swooped in the complete opposite direction. A lost cause, if truth be told.

"No, you're not," Castiel refrained from an eye roll. "You're just extremely anxious. But don't worry; I've seen you fly a good half dozen times now. I swear to Merlin, you're the best person here."

"Really?" Sam's hazel eyes met his own as Castiel smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner.

"Yes," He said before leaning up to face the sky to address the flying figure at the goal posts. "Veronica, you can come down now! That's all we need!"

Veronica swooped downward and skidded to a halt in the gravel. Castiel smiled at her before turning to Sam. "Your turn now. Best of luck."

"Thanks, mate," Sam's anxious smile was melting into a more determined line. Castiel stepped aside to let him fly up to the goalposts; then he nodded at Balthazar, who was hovering in midair next to Kali, waiting for his cue to start lobbing the ball.

As soon as he received the gesture, Balthazar chucked at the left hoop. Sam, who was hovering somewhere near the middle, swooped to the side and sent the Quaffle hurtling in the opposite direction with the tail end of his broom.

Castiel tried to hide his proud grin. Hearing whoops and cheers, he glanced toward the stands. Dean, along with the pretty blonde-haired girl that Castiel knew was Jessica Moore, were both cheering praises up to Sam.

The next four goals went even better for Sam. He blocked them all easily and with a great amount of grace that Castiel knew left even the most seasoned Quidditch players on the pitch feeling impressed with the fourteen-year-old boy. He couldn't help but quirk his lips upward as Sam skidded to a halt on the ground.

"Congratulations," Castiel clapped him on the back. "You're the new Ravenclaw Keeper. You deserve it."

Sam's eyes were alight with joy, although the other potential candidates for Keeper that were surrounding them looked less than pleased. Castiel winced, for he didn't like making people unhappy. However, it was unavoidable in this circumstance.

"Great job to everyone, even those who didn't make the team!" Castiel called out to the masses. Well, not masses so much as a couple dozen Keepers and a few bodies littering the stands. "Glad you all could try out."

As the crowd began to disperse, Castiel noticed Dean jumping down from the stands, Jess in his wake, heading directly toward Sam. He side-stepped his new Keeper, gesturing toward his brother, who upon arriving, gave Sam a huge bear hug that made Same choke for breath.

"Dean, you're hurting me, prick!" Sam massaged his chest as Dean set him down. Jess gave him what appeared to be a much more satisfactory hug. "Thanks for coming out and watching."

"Wouldn't miss it, Sammy," Dean grinned. "You did good, little brother. Let's just see if you can keep that up in the games."

"Of course he'll be able to," Jess leaned in to give Sam a much less painful squeeze. Castiel backed up slightly, thinking that he was a bit out of place in the family setting, but unexpectedly, Dean called out to him.

"So, Cas, guess you're not a complete bastard after all, huh?"

"Erm, I suppose?" Castiel said, unsure as how to answer Dean's question. The boy in question just shook his head.

"Thanks for putting Sam on the team," he clarified. "You're a good bloke, Novak."

"Thank you," Castiel felt a bit uncomfortable in the current situation. He had always harbored a quiet dislike of the older Winchester boy, but the more he spoke to him, the more it seemed to evaporate. "Sam played very well."

"You should come eat lunch with us," Jess piped up from next to Sam. "It'd be nice to get to know you better."

"If I wouldn't be intruding," Castiel said, touched. It wasn't often that people who weren't Gabriel or the Milton twins wanted to spend time with him. He was a bit of a pariah in the Hogwarts spectrum of social life. He glanced over toward Sam, not sure if this was okay with him, but his new teammate was beaming and nodding, apparently pleased at the prospect.

"Not at all!" Jess said, shaking her head emphatically. "It'll just be Sam and me. And Dean, if you want to eat with us."

"Sure," Dean smiled, shoving Sam's shoulder in a brotherly fashion. "Benny, Jo, and Garth will have the pitch this afternoon for Gryffindor tryouts. And Charlie can survive by herself for a while."

Castiel suddenly found himself walking next to the trio on their way up the winding path to the castle. The conversation on the way was littered with compliments for Sam about his superb tryout and a couple questions for Castiel about the other players on the Ravenclaw team. He answered them best he could without feeling particularly awkward or giving away too much information – He knew that if Balthazar was here, he'd be hissing about exchanging trade secrets with Dean, since so many of his friends were on the Gryffindor team. Castiel told the Balthazar voice in his head to shut it.

Before he knew it, they had arrived at the Great Hall, where the delicious smell of shepherd's pie was thick in the air. Sam and Jess led the way to the tail end of the Ravenclaw table, Dean and Castiel trailing behind somewhat. Sitting down, Castiel pulled a hearty helping toward himself. He had worked up quite an appetite during the tryouts.

"So where are your friends, Castiel?" Jess asked politely, picking up her fork.

"Erm…" Castiel wracked his brains for a moment. "My best friend is probably chatting up one of the girls that didn't make the team."

"That's Balthazar Milton," Sam informed the rest of the table. "He came down and helped me train sometimes, too."

"He's a prick," Dean said bluntly, earning himself a reproachful gaze from Sam.

"I'm sorry about him," Sam said, turning to Castiel, who only smiled in response. "He doesn't know when to stop talking."

"It's fine," Castiel reassured him. "Balthazar is…well, not a very pleasant person if you don't know him well. Or even if you do know him well," he added as an afterthought. "He dumped a bucket of cold water on me this morning because I wouldn't wake up."

"Seems like something Dean would do," Sam rolled his eyes as the boy mentioned chuckled heartily to himself. "In fact, I think he might have done that a few times when we were kids."

"Dean, you're horrible," Jess swatted his arm from across the table, but it did nothing to diminish Dean's grin.

"Hey, if he won't get his lazy ass out of bed, it's only a responsibility to get them up in whatever way possible."

"For future reference, freezing water is unappreciated," Castiel interjected.

Sam nodded in assent. "Extremely."

"Fine, fine, you group of girls," Dean mumbled under his breath as he took a heaping forkful of his dish.

"So what about your other friends?" Jess changed the subject with an eye roll toward Dean, who grinned cheekily through his mouthful of food. "Not Balthazar."

"Don't really have any," Castiel said with a shrug. "Just my brother and his girlfriend."

"No other friends?" Dean's brow creased in confusion, obviously incredulous about the situation.

_Well_, Castiel thought to himself a tad bitterly, _we can't all be one of the most popular people in the year._

He didn't say that, though, because Castiel always tried to be as polite as he could, even to assholes. Instead, he responded with, "Yep, social recluse, that's me."

"That's just not right, mate," Dean clapped him on the back a bit harder than Castiel would have appreciated. "Not right at all. You should come up to Gryffindor Tower tonight; have some firewhiskey with me and my mates. I promise we don't bite. Much." He finished with a wicked grin.

Castiel winced internally, though he tried not to show his emotions through facial expressions. Horrible memories swept through his mind, firewhiskey playing a prominent part in each and every one of them. The heat, the rush, the pain…He did his best not to shudder.

"No thanks," Castiel stared down at his shepherd's pie, which suddenly didn't look as appetizing as it had previously. "Not my kind of thing. Uh, I've got to go, alright? Homework and stuff. See you on Monday for practice, Sam."

Trying his best not to make eye contact with any of them, Castiel made his way out the Great Hall as best he could, barely hearing the muffled goodbyes of his three lunch mates. There was a dull roar in his ears accompanied by a slight tremor in his hands. It had been ages since the images of the previous year had come to play in his mind, and it still was too much for him to handle.

He attempted ignoring the violent urge to throw up as he stumbled past his classmates to the staircase that would lead him up to Ravenclaw Tower, hoping no one was noticing the tears burning in his eyes.

"What did you do this time, Dean?"

Sam's reproachful frown was making Dean feel just the teensiest bit guilty over this whole debacle. And he hadn't done anything wrong! At least not that he was aware.

Castiel had always been a bit weird in his mind, but after their talk last night, Dean had formed the executive decision that Cas was a decent sort. Sure, he was on the quiet and serious side, but Benny was the same way. Which was why he thought he'd introduce them. But then the Novak kid had to go all freaky, seeming to escape as quickly as he possibly could from the situation.

And Dean just didn't understand why.

"I dunno," he voiced his thoughts, shrugging at Sam. "I was being nice! Pleasant, even. And you know what a hardship that is for me."

"Yeah, yeah," Sam prominently displayed what Dean considered to be one of his brother's favorite bitch faces. "We all know you lack certain social graces. But c'mon, Dean, couldn't you see he was uncomfortable?"

"Not really," Dean tried not to be bothered by this. He really did. He knew he wasn't the greatest at the whole perception thing. Or the other people's feelings thing. He never felt too much guilt over it. Although right now, there was a burning pit in his stomach trying to consume him.

"Try to be nice, okay?" Sam's expression was pleading. "He's my captain. And my friend. Just please don't be you around him."

"Don't be _me_?" Dean shot his junior an incredulous glance. "Why not? I'm a joy to be around."

"What he's trying to say," Jess began to interject. She was always the bridge of peace between him and Sam in arguments. Reason number one of many in the list of why Sam needed to marry her. "Is that you come on a little strong. He's probably just shy or something."

"Yeah, I'll say," Dean muttered, thinking to the last week of Potions classes in which Castiel barely spoke a word to him. Not counting the first day, of course, where he was pretty positive he had been insulted. "I can try nice. But no promises here."

Still, Dean had to wonder exactly what he had done that had caused Castiel to become so offended by him. Or perhaps this was through no fault of his own.

That was unlikely. In Dean's experience, most things were his fault.


End file.
